Creative Class Magazine
March/April 2004
By: G. Williams
Photo by Cara Daniels
Type of art: Primary poetry, his visual artwork never strays from the written word
Quirks: Equates scent with comfort and obsessively burns incense
Quote: Silence only protects predators
Favorite Color: Brown
Favorite Song: Love Machine
Favorite Book: American Dreams by Sapphire
Favorite Movie: Grand Canyon or Living Out Loud
Steven Reigns debut collection Your Dead Body is My Welcome Mat boldly chartered waters few explore. Reigns crafted poetry and micro-fiction that examined what he calls “abuses of power and living in the margin.” The collection is emotionally unforgiving as it charts experiences and upheavals. This past summer Reigns organized Loving In Fear, the first ever Gay & Lesbian event at The Hillsborough County Library. He has read at venues across the country and is currently at work on a new collection of poetry. More information can be found on his website www.stevenreigns.com
What prompted you to publish your work. It is very personal and highly emotional.
I have a Creative Writing degree from USF, so I've been trained as a writer. I felt as if too much of the writing being produced did not call out to our experiences. I kept reading work that was exclusive, condescending, authoritative, and impersonal. I think we need more writing/art/expression that gently nudge our boundaries and allows us to grow. We need art that creates a space in which we can explore who we are and how we feel. Sapphire, Bernard Cooper, Sharon Olds, Alice Walker, Marie Howe are great examples of writers who have given me space to explore as a writer and as a feeling person.
You are very open about being gay in your art. What prompted your decision to be so open?
I don't think that it was a decision. I'm so immersed in gay culture. It is such a viable culture that cannot be extracted from my personality--so it cannot be extracted from my art. There is nothing short of amnesia that would offer me the luxury of forgetting how gays are the most hated minority. It is important to be counted and accounted. To be visible. This is the experience I write from.
Is your work only for a gay contingent?
No. I don't produce thinking of who will read the work. In that moment, I'm too concerned with what I'm creating. I don't expect everyone to relate to my experiences. I also don't expect the “I” used in my poetry to represent only myself. I feel if I do it right, if I express the emotion/experience accurately, that it will have a universal appeal.
You teach creative writing workshops. What is some of the best advice you give your students?
I think stifling our inner critic can be one of the biggest struggles. Picasso was quoted as saying that if he were imprisoned without his brushes, canvases, and paint—he'd draw on the walls with his spit. That is a quote from a man who had eradicated his inner critic. We don't have jailers taking away our paint, pens, or paper. Most of us don't need an oppressive jailer for that. We do it to ourselves. It can be paralyzing.
Describe your micro-fiction piece Meat Under The Stairs.
I think it is one of the more memorable pieces in the book; it haunts a bit more than the rest. I describe a scene of sexual abuse/rape by my neighbor under the stairs while my mother is upstairs preparing dinner. It is important to talk about being sexually victimized. I prefer the term “survivor” instead of “victim” but that story really isn't about surviving the act, it is about being IN the act. It was hard to write because I essentially recreated the scene in the retelling. Men have great verbal latitude in almost every arena except in regards to talking about being a victim. I like to read that piece at readings because of its power and as a way to start a dialogue about being a survivor of abuse.
What has changed about your current writings from when the book came out?
I'm a bit more reflective. I don't have the angst that prompted most of the book. I've matured as a person and so has the work. Change in my life affects the writings. I'm not the same person who wrote the stories and poems in Your Dead Body. They chronicled where I was at the time. This is not to diminish the power and importance of that work but I'm just in a different place now. I'm pleased with this; it's a sign of growth.
You've also done some art installations. What prompted that exploration?
My first installation came after the death of my friend Michael Church to AIDS. The installation, Postcards to the Dead, focused on morning the loss of a loved one due to AIDS. At that time, I was so enmeshed with the book, readings, and signings. I didn't desire to leave language behind. In fact, I wanted to do something different with language. It seemed like a natural extension. The written word on the page does have limitations and a limited audience. When I conceive an idea that seems better suited with visual, I'm not afraid to do it. In one piece, Stopping Patterns, I learned how to sew and quilt in order to complete my idea. The artwork has been well received and I enjoy reaching people with language that might not necessarily pick up a book.
How do you feel about being a Tampa based artist?
This town is overflowing with potential. I have great hope with our new Mayor. I sometimes feel under-whelmed with the bay area but leaving doesn't feel like the right option. I want to help this area grow into its potential. That is why I do free public artwork, created an event at The Hillsborough Country Library, and continue to live in the area. I'm the winner of the Queer Tampa Poetry Slam and I'm proud of it. USF offers a yearly writing conference that is revered throughout the country. There are opportunities here. If this town isn't offering us what we want, we've got a great opportunity to create it.